FLYING OVER LONDON 

AND OTHER VERSES 



tXNN HAROLD HOUGH 





Class _ 
Boofc__ 



COPYRIGKF DEPOSIT 



/ 



Flying Over London 

And Other Verses 



BY 



LYNN HAROLD HOUGH 



/ 




THE ABINGDON PRESS 

NEW YORK CINCINNATI 



q I ^^ 



TS 35-/1; ' 
.075935^6 

aopy 1 



Copyright, 19 19, by 
LYNN HAROLD HOUGH 



/ 



J 

JAN -8 1920 

©C1.A561367 ^ 



Contents 

PAGE 

Foreword 5 

Flying Over London 7 

The Khaki and the Blue 9 

Fathers and Sons Together 12 

A Mother's Thoughts 13 

The Light in the Soldiers' ;Byes 15 

Seeing England 16 

When Christ Came 18 

Over the Sea 20 

Alone 22 

The Muse to the Poet 24 

The Trail of a Hundred^ Years 26 

A Query 28 

A Song of America 28 



fforewor^ 

During the tense years from 1914 to 1918 
many men and women who had been quite 
contented to be pedestrians moving to the 
time of a steady and dependable prose, found 
themselves tempted to try the wings of verse. 
Some men found the old lyric impulse of col- 
lege days returning and bent their words to 
unaccustomed measures. The verses which 
follow came from such a motive, and the 
only reason for their appearance in this form 
is that they have served some sort of purpose 
in aiding in the mobilization of the invisible 
resources of the people as they have been pub- 
lished in periodicals on both sides of the At- 
lantic, and a good many people both in Eng- 
land and America have asked for them. 

Lynn Harold Hough. 



(Written October 2, 1918, after a flight over 

London in a British warplane) 
The mighty whirUng horses of the car 
Plunged madly through the highways of the 
sky, 
Like homesick meteors from some far star, 
Scorning the world and its low destiny, 
Whom some kind god had given wings to 

fly 
Back to their planet's distant mystery. 

The winds reached out great leaping arms of 
power, 
Strong in their ancient heritage of might. 
But bent like abject slaves that shake and 
cower 
In sudden shattering and unmanly fright, 
When there uncoils in hissing serpent's spite 
The menace of the lash above their fearful 
sight. 

The earth sends forth its clutching hands of 
force 
Which held men chained below in all the 
years ; 
The car climbs upward in its regal course 
Among high-flying birds, its only peers. 

7 



FLYING OVER LONDON 

It has subdued all crouching human fears, 
It has fulfilled the daring dreams of seers. 



Wide spread below are towns and fields of 
green. 

On to the edges of the purple sea ; 
And there in clear distinctness sharply seen 

Is London in her queenly majesty; 

Her spires and palaces and homes you see, 

The heart of a great empire strong and free. 



The silver ribbon of the sparkling Thames 
Winds through the city on its shining way; 

The sunlight glistens as a million gems 

Send from their facets each a glittering ray ; 

And by the river in the distance there 

Saint Paul's Cathedral summons men to 
prayer. 



We circle grandly o'er the ancient town. 
We taste the triumphs of audacious flight ; 

Then strangely presses that most cruel crown 
Whose thorns draw blood in many a far- 
flung fight; 

For all the world a tragic, broken star 

Is held in the remorseless clutches of the war. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 9 

But upward, upward, moves our certain way, 
And upward, upward, is the world's bold 
flight, 
Up from the cruelties of this dread day. 
Up from the heart-breaks of this bitter 
night ; 
Up to the highways of the common good, 
Up to the radiant heights of Brotherhood. 



XTbe Ikbafet ant) tbe Blue 

A LONELY boy is walking down the street, 
Miles from all the jolly friends he used to 
meet, 

And his hungry eyes are eating up the town. 
But the bright electric glitter, 
Makes his heart grow cold and bitter, 

And he sees the shining pageant with a 
frown. 
For the right doors are shut tight. 
To the boy that's got to fight; 
And the wrong doors open wide — 
Laughing lawless forms inside. 
There are thousands of this boy, 
Either heartbreak or great joy, 

And 

for you, 

for you, 
These boys wear the khaki and the blue. 



lo FLYING OVER LONDON 

A Jackie with the sea swell in his gait 
Seems to some of your gay townsmen easy 
bait. 

When the wonder of the city fills his eyes. 
The old cruiser's in the bay, 
And his pocket's full of pay. 

The way he spends his money's a surprise. 
There are traps all down the street 
For this heedless sailor's feet. 
And a money-loving nation 
Makes the town one big temptation ; 
There are thousands of this lad. 
Victims of our gold lust mad. 
Yet 

for you, 

for you, 
These boys wear the khaki and the blue. 



A Sammy has come in from the old fort, 
A hunting for a night of lively sport. 

He's as restless as a horse man never 
broke ; 
A good many things you've prized 
Seem to him too civilized. 

And he'd like to blow conventions up in 
smoke ; 
You have got to understand him. 
It will never do to brand him. 



FLYING OVER LONDON ii 

Find the worth that is inside, 
Feel his power with manly pride. 
There are thousands of this fellow, 
And you mustn't call him yellow. 
As 

for you, 

for you. 
These boys wear the khaki and the blue. 



There's a sturdy boy who must not know 

defeat, 
As he's fighting in the trenches of our street, 

With his eager eyes a turning to the light. 
He has found he's got a soul. 
And a body to control, 

And a God who'll give him victory in the 
fight. 
He will come through this thing straight. 
He will help his weaker mate, 
Clean of mind and strong of limb, 
A man every inch of him; 
With him comes an army strong. 
Lifting their bold battle song. 
As 

for you, 

for you, 
These boys wear the khaki and the blue. 



12 FLYING OVER LONDON 

And now these merry boys are off for France, 
Brave as any knight that ever bore a lance, 
In their blood there burns the passion of 
the war; 
In the cantonments they're drilling, 
All the transports they are filling, 

And they hear the trenches calling from 
afar; 
Ocean highways they patrol, 
Through the air they seek their goal. 
With a will to win the fight. 
With a sturdy virile might. 
There they go a million strong. 
To the colors they belong; 
And 

for you, 

for you, 
These boys wear the khaki and the blue. 

ffatbers anb Sons XTogetbet 

Our hands and our boys' hands 
Are joined in a grip unbroken, 

Though they fight in far stern lands, 
'Mid tragedies unspoken. 

Our eyes and our boys' eyes 
Gleam with one high decision. 

Our skies and their skies 

Shine with one radiant vision. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 13 

Our feet and our boys' feet 
March to one mighty chorus. 

We meet where the drums beat. 
And the flag goes on before us. 



Our wills and our boys' wills 
Are tense for the great endeavor. 

One thought our mind fills — 
All peoples free forever. 

Our hearts and our boys' hearts 
Are joined in one deep devotion; 

Joy starts and fear departs, 
Despite the severing ocean. 

Our lives and our boys' lives 
Are gifts to the mother nation. 

While the old world in travail strives 
For birth's great consummation. 



H /IDotber'6 UbouGbts 

Your eyes are shining in my heart to-night; 

Are they shining bright in France ? 
Your face is glowing with courageous light; 

Is it strong and firm in France ? 



14 FLYING OVER LONDON 

Your voice is singing in my heart to-night; 

Does it lift gay songs in France? 
You're all a-tingle for the great, stern fight; 

Have you kept your zeal in France? 



Your feet are marching in my heart to-night ; 

Do they keep bold time in France? 
Your arms are stalwart with a soldier's might ; 

Do they do brave deeds in France? 



You're a spotless baby in my arms to-night; 

Are you clean and true in France? 
You have said the old prayer in the waning 
light; 

Have you kept the faith in France? 



I can see flags waving in your soul to-night; 

Are they floating high in France? 
The flags of freedom and the flags of right — 

Are you true to them in France? 



I sit here lonely in the still, dark night, 
But my heart's with you in France. 

I pray God keep you in his own great might. 
And I fight with you in France. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 15 

Zbc %iQbt in tbe SolMers' iB^cs 

I LISTENED to the crash of wild explosion, 
As fierce-winged shells moved madly 
through the air, 

I saw the chaos and the red confusion 
Of battlefields with terror everywhere; 

Then with a sudden gleam of strange surprise 

I saw the bright light in the soldiers' eyes. 



As men dashed on with bayonets set for 
charging, 
Their bodies tense, their arms — steel grip- 
ping steel, 
A thousand memories their hearts enlarging, 
In war's hot passion love's far-flung appeal ; 
Like golden shining of the sunset skies, 
I saw the bright light in the soldiers' eyes. 



The arms of far-off children clasping tightly 
The necks of men held in war's hard 
embrace. 

Invisible loved faces smiling brightly, 

With old-time witchery and tender grace — 

Though all about death's ghostly shadows lie. 

These bring the light to the soldier's eye. 



i6 FLYING OVER LONDON 

A dream of men in new strong bonds united, 

Beyond the burning fever of the strife, 
A dream of hope beyond the world benighted 
Where war has bivouacked at the death of 
Hfe; 
A dream of that new day which shall arise, 
This brings the bright light to the soldiers* 
eyes. 

I saw the daybreak with the sun's glad gleam- 
ing, 

The Easter daybreak with a world at peace, 
After Golgotha with its deaths redeeming, 

After the suffering which wrought release; 
I knew then the meaning of the tortured cries, 
I saw the bright light in the soldiers' eyes. 



Seeing JCnglant) 
I 

On a train for London bound, 

While the wheels moved round and round. 

Gliding swiftly on the rails. 

Whispering untranslated tales 

Of men traveling up and down. 

Of the vast mysterious town, 

I beheld a lad's bright face. 

With its haunting fresh young grace, 



FLYING OVER LONDON 17 

With its joy of unused power, 
With youth's happy, magic dower, 
As if God had smiled with joy, 
Giving to the world this boy. 
Now his face was set for France, 
And his eyes flashed like a lance, 
Eager, dauntless, strong, and bright, 
Ready for the last hard fight. 
I saw the hope of England. 

II 

On a dull, gray winter's day. 
When cold winds went forth to play, 
When the streets were dark and chill, 
And life lost its quickening thrill, 
I beheld a man's hard face. 
Like a runner in a race. 
Rigid, tense, and sternly strong. 
For endurance hard and long. 
There was heartbreak in his eyes. 
And a cruel pained surprise. 

At life's tragic tides of grief, 

Wave on wave without relief. 

Yet his purpose as a fire. 

Leaping, flaming ever higher 

Through his solid self-control. 

Pierced its way into my soul. 

I saw the strength of England. • 



i8 FLYING OVER LONDON 

III 

By a dim lamp^s flickering light 
On a London street at night. 
While the war, a huge black cloud. 
Wrapped the city like a shroud, 
I beheld a woman's face, 
Stern and sad, yet full of grace. 
In her deep and tragic eyes 
I saw sorrows' mysteries. 
Yet beneath the poignant pain 
I could feel a sense of gain. 
As if she had power to see 
High things hidden far from me. 
Though grief left its bitter trace. 
There was splendor in her face. 
By the trembling yellow light, 
In the shadows of the night, 
I saw the soul of England. 



Mben Cbrtst Came 

I 

When the Lord Christ came to Britain 

In a chariot of fire. 
With the war clouds tossing round him. 

In a passion of desire. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 19 

He tested the soul of England 

In the furnace of the fight, 
And the dross burned up like tinder. 

But the gold shone pure and bright. 
For four years the great white Captain 

Led his hosts by sea and land ; 
For four years the Allied nations 

Followed at his high command. 
When the Lord Christ came to Britain 

In a chariot of flame, 
England's soldiers proudly answered 

When the Captain called their name. 



11 

When the Lord Christ came to Britain, 

Wafted on white wings of Peace, 
When the sky was bright with promise 

Of the coming of release. 
Far away the tides of battle 

Felt the power of his royal will, 
And the guns in their belching fury. 

Heard his kingly word : "Be still," 
Then the darkened streets of England 

Saw the end of their heavy night. 
And the darkened hearts of England 

Saw the coming of the light. 



20 FLYING OVER LONDON 

And the implements of battle 

All became forgotten things, 
When the Lord Christ came to the nations 

With glad healing in his wings. 

Ill 

Now the Lord Christ comes to Britain 

In the joy of the Christmas bells, 
As ringing and singing and ringing 

Their jubilant anthem swells. 
And it's joy to the mothers and fathers, 

And joy to the daughters and sons. 
And peace to wide-lying nations. 

And "Cease firing" to the guns. 
And it's comfort to broken-hearted. 

And balm for the souls in pain. 
And a promise of forgiveness 

And new life for evil men. 
The Lord Christ has come to his people 

With a power that knows no decrease, 
And he stands this glorious Christmas 

The Imperial Prince of Peace. 

Ovcx tbe Sea 

Over the sea I hear bells ringing, 
Over the sea I hear glad singing, 
Over the sea a message bringing 
Of peace and victory. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 21 

Over the sea the sun is beaming, 
Over the sea the banners streaming, 
Over the sea the rainbows gleaming, 
With peace and liberty. 

Over the sea the culprit nations 
See their broken expectations, 
Watch their failing machinations, 

With fear of victory. 
Over the sea the tyrants cower, 
Seeing the sight of their waning power. 
After their little cruel hour. 

And fear reigns over the sea. 

Over the sea the earth is shaking, 
I hear the sound of the chains that are break- 
ing, 
I see the eyes of the slaves that are waking 

To freedom over the sea. 
Over the sea the Allies sought it. 
Over the sea the soldiers bought it. 
Over the sea the heroes wrought it, 

Freedom over the sea. 

Over the sea the Allied nations 
Drink on this day their glad libations, 
Celebrate with high jubilations 
The day of victory. 



22 FLYING OVER LONDON 

Over the sea the morn dawns clear, 
And mighty hope casts out all fear. 
For all the world good days draw near, 
With victory over the sea. 

Over the sea the prophet's voice 

Is singing the song of the Allies' choice, 

And bidding the whole wide world rejoice, 

When Love speaks over the sea. 
Love with a sword to wield for right, 
Love with a heart to conquer might, 
Love which will scorn Hate's ways of fright- 
Love speaks over the sea. 



Blone 



I THOUGHT I was alone when John died- 

John with the rough strong arms 

And heavy manly voice. 

But there was John's son 

With his damp warm face against 

my cheek. 
And his small fingers tight 

about my neck. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 23 



II 



I thought I was alone when 

little John forgot 
To talk or move or want a 

thing in all the world 

that I could give- 
But the old house grew 
small to press invisible 
arms of sympathy about me. 
I could not be alone where 

in old days 
My father and my mother 

had watched birth enter the 

door and death go out. 



Ill 

I thought I was alone when 
singing flames 

Made music in the walls 

and rafters of the house and 
left but ashes when the 
song was done. 

But the warm blood 

which moved through 
limbs and the old 
thoughts which walked 
within my brain — told 



24 FLYING OVER LONDON 

me the past was with me 
still. I could not 
be alone as long as I 
could love remembering. 



Zbc /»use to tbe poet 

Eyes aglow with rapture, 

Eyes afire with light, 
You must quickly capture 

That supreme delight; 
Ancient purple mountains 

Rising from blue seas. 
Silver splashing fountains. 

Fragrant blooming trees; 
Golden harvests swaying 

In the summer air. 
Forest creatures playing, 

Maidens tall and fair; 
Sturdy zestful toilers. 

Cities clean and free. 
Lands without despoilers. 

All in harmony; 
All the merry madness 

Of children gay and strong- 
What you see in gladness 

You must tell in song. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 25 

Torn and tragic voices, 

Rent by poignant pain; 
Earth no more rejoices — 

Loss has conquered gain; 
Words of strong men failing 

In the dreadful fight; 
Little children wailing 

In the dark, cold night; 
Women bent and weeping 

By lonely bitter graves ; 
Sobs instead of sleeping, 

Clanking chains of slaves; 
Words of sullen workers 

Tyranny holds fast; 
Thin pale speech of shirkers. 

Shrieks of the night blast; 
Sounds of wild, bold badness, 

Voices of harsh wrong — 
What you hear in sadness 

You must tell in song. 

A tidal wave of feeling 

Comes pressing on your spirit, 
A throbbing glow revealing 

The passion you inherit. 
The singing, buoyant pleasure 

Of ancient sunlit days. 
The stately solemn measure 

Of ancient tragic lays; 



26 FLYING OVER LONDON 

The richness of men*s giving, 

Their deathless high devotion; 
The noble joys of living, 

The poetry of motion; 
Love's magic transformation 

Of every human face, 
Fear's blighting agitation, 

The haunting dreams of grace; 
Peace quieting pain's deep sobs. 

Right victor over wrong — 
What you feel in heart-throbs 

You must tell in song. 



Ubc Urail of H ibunbreb l^ears^ 

Along the trail of a hundred years. 

With the thrill of their joys and the pang of 

their fears. 
Singing the song of the glad new day, 
Winged with the rapture of birds in May, 
The great hope has moved with triumphant 

stride. 
The great word has sounded in solemn pride. 
The call of the Master has come to the world. 
With his trumpet blast and his flag unfurled, 
With his hosts assembled in armor bright, 
Moving out to the great stern fight. 



* Missionary Centenary verses. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 2^ 

The watchword has come from His lips 

divine : 
"Go forth to conquer. The world is mine." 



Along the trail of a hundred years, 

With its gladness and sadness, its laughter 

and tears, 
Quiet brave men have climbed to the heights, 
Seeing in vision glad, rapturous sights. 
Statesmen of God, and shepherds bold. 
Gathering nations into the fold. 
Patient strong women in far sad lands, 
Clasping the helpless with helping hands. 
Casting the love of self aside. 
With the homelight bright in their eyes when 

they died, 
All these have followed the voice divine : 
"Go forth to conquer. The world is mine.'* 



At the end of the trail of a hundred years 
The narrow way widens and there appears 
The broad highway of the days to be. 
With marching armies of men set free. 
The world moves out from its dark eclipse 
Pressing the goblet of life to its lips. 
In every land a new wind blows. 
And eyes are turning from old black woes. 



28 FLYING OVER LONDON 

A thousand new hopes are born in a day 
As the Lord Christ moves on the great high- 
way. 
And his voice rings out his vast design : 
"Go forth to conquer. The world is mine." 



I WONDER if some day I'll write a song 
Where lonely words are wedded in pure joy, 
Where living phrases feast and dance and 

sing, 
Where mighty thoughts speak in high august 

tones. 
Where human hearts can hear their hopes and 

fears 
Marching in corridors of haunting speech, 
Where love is scattering sunbeams of red gold 
With glad abandon on the souls of men — 
I wonder if some day I'll write a song. 



H Sona of Hmettca 

America my heart's land, 
My singing is for thee, 

America the home land 
Of rapturous liberty. 



FLYING OVER LONDON 29 

America the glad land, 

Scattering joy and song, 
America the strong land, 

Fierce battler against wrong. 

America the friendly land. 
Face smiling and eyes bright, 

America the stern land 
In war's imperial might. 

America the broad land 

From east to western sea, 
America the high land 

Of white-peaked mystery. 

America the man's land. 

Strong limbed and full of power, 
America the woman's land 

Fair blooming like a flower. 

America the children's land 

Of mirth and merry plays, 
America the old folk's land 

Of golden sunset days. 

America my heart's land, 

My singing is for thee, 
America the home land 

Of rapturous liberty. 



Mn 26 mo 




mmmim 

0015973 765 2 




